May We Go All The Way

No cook, mason jar oatmeal.                      

Four years ago I had a girlfriend. Weird to be saying girlfriend in my mid-fifties, (well, I wasn't mid at the time) but still . . .   that's what we were, girlfriends. And April per FB memories was our signature month. She shared and spoke with me much four years ago April  Not to long beyond April she stopped talking and eventually, broke up with me. But, I am veering off track. The track being: healthy eating. My good friend over at 8th Day proposes a community challenge of small changes to daily eating that will hopefully lead to lasting changes toward eating healthily.

Some of the small changes referenced in the post  are changes that I'd already adopted on some level but I have not been consistent to the discipline. Thus, I am joining the challenge. One of my hurdles is having healthier options readily available. Which brings me back to the girlfriend.

Four years ago she shared a no cook, mason jar oatmeal recipes link.I bookmarked the link but had not ever gotten around to trying any of the recipes. Then, we broke up, life took a turn toward death, grief, unemployment, and . . . well, suffice to say, I forgot all about living healthily let alone, no cook mason jar oatmeal.

If not for the "On This Day" FB feature no cook, mason jar oatmeal would have remained forgotten. Now, however, I am anxious to pick up the supplies and ingredients needed to make several days worth. I am already doing smoothies a couple of days a week, oatmeal in a more traditional serving method for a couple others. Breakfast done healthier is rolling along fairly well. The no cook, mason jar oatmeal will help mightily.

Lunch and Dinner need much more work. In preparation of the challenge, my grocery list included more fruit and vegetables. My week one challenge is to include at least one vegetable with both lunch and dinner this week.  

In addition to taking on the May Healthier Eating Challenge, May is also National Bike Month. My hope is

that weather permitting Melody and I are rolling more and more hours this month. April has been dismally wet and cold. Not at all conducive to Melody trips. Here's to taking a lasting turn toward sustainable lifestyle changes and healthier living. Thank you to FB for prompting a memory. Though the relationship ran aground, I am happy for having had the experience. I remember much of our time together fondly, now.

#healthier eating challenge week 1 

Leap, Circle and Yearn

Last year PBS Newshour presented a segment with musician Rob Kapilow speaking  

to why the song is so good. He makes a good point, I guess. . 

All I know is I love the film. I ♥ this song. 

Music is life. 

A Week in Pictures

 The nature challenge mentioned last week in this space resulted in the posting of these ten photos (3 for day seven). The first, taken the day after the challenge was issued, is a neighboring yard. The house behind the yard is empty and I believe, has been for some time. One of the things I love most about Spring is the surprise blooms of perennials in gardens of all shapes.

Day Two, you've seen before 

    

 Day Three, a neighbors Mum display from Fall 2015. 

Day 4.  Call of the Not So Wild 

Day 5. One of the Amazing Local Parks 

Day 6 HI Fall 

Day 7 (1) Winter, not Blah 

Day 7 (2) Summer Bloom 

Day 7 (3) Array of Fall Colors 

Day 7 (4) Spring Bling

Some of these pics are from archived shots, a couple are new with the challenge in mind. A good friend who accepted my nomination, said on her 7th day posting,

"I opened my eyes to new things this week ... noticed such beauty that I wouldn't usually take notice of."  I had a similar kind of reaction. I am a fairly observant person. But, what I noticed most during this challenge, was a concerted effort to observe differently. I walked down the same blocks, but on the other side of the street, for instance. I look forward to exploring with my camera in hand, to see if what I see, is what I document. :-) 

#MicroBlogMonday 

Forever Purple

GobsmackeD

There are words, so many thoughts swimming around in my head but they won't release. 

Not now. 

RIP Prince Rogers Nelson   

Nature for Seven Days

A friend was nominated a friend for a FB exercise; post a nature pic for the next seven days and nominate a friend to do the same. Should the nominated friend  take up the exercise, they are to nominate a friend, and so on and so on. 

Thus, I'm participating in a FB exercise to post a nature pic for seven days. The above photo is day two of the exercise. I posted this: The beauty and majesty of trees make me swoon. Over the next few days there may be more trees. with the photo. 

Looking through my current stock of nature photos, I observed that many include buildings. Well, I do live in a very urban area. But, even as I've traveled to or through scenic areas, the photos tend to include people, animals, or buildings--making those things the focus--over the scenery. 

Observation: a focus shift may be in the works. 

#MicroblogMonday   
Follow the link for more Micro Monday.

Sun, Stay

Welcome to Friday. 

Friends, Family, Framily

This song emerges from my memories often. A hit, in my 

daughter's birth year (a remake of a previous version 

recorded in my son's birth year) it was one of my 

mom's favorites.  It has taken on a newer life for 

me in recent years. Thank you, Friends. ♥ 

F*cking B*tch, Get A Life

Ian L / Public Domain 

Sunday, March 27, 2016. Otherwise identified as "Easter Sunday" began like any other Sunday. It was laundry day for the Middle Girl ladies. We decided to cab it over using the car share option. Since we only had the laundry run, a cab made more cents financially.

The cab ride and transaction to the laundry mat was more-or-less uneventful. The driver friendly and efficient enough. The return driver was huffy from the start. He went from huffy to out-and out belligerent when I asked to used the credit / debit card swipe and nasty when I passed on adding a tip.

"Don't you have 7 dollars?" "Why don't you take a bus?" He huffed and puffed about the expense of the credit / debit option. There was a bit of back and forth. (read: not a discussion. think: yelling match)
As he was pulling off he yelled into the still of this Easter Sunday morning, "F*ck you, you f*cking b*tch! Get A Life!" 

Get. A. Life. . .   Here I thought breathing, walking, talking, working, mothering a son and daughter, nurturing pets, volunteering, writing, drawing, and a bunch of other stuff was me having a life. It isn't? If not, then what is?

I do so love laundry day. 

Waiting Can Be Trying

not a product endorsement. just cute as heck. 

That is all. For now. 

March On

A wee bit of randomness for this last Monday in March: 

Sunday was nice enough, long enough for a short ride; first of the season. Given-the-givens body feeling pretty good. A damn sight away from agile, but again, given-the-givens, pretty good. 

Tuesday (tomorrow) is the anniversary of the birth of this blog. I updated the inaugural post last year to commemorate the event, late. This year I am early. Whoopee. ten Years. Wow. WoW  

Saturday I intend to attend the first social event not connected to family in some/any way in many, many, (even more many) months. I'm a little nervous. Okay, I am a lot nervous. 

I do not believe Spring is here to stay yet. The photo shown is a couple of years old but is from a group labeled, "snow in April" (though THIS photo was taken in May). Point is, too soon to dust off the Spring togs, full on. My daughter is of the opinion that the winterizing efforts should remain in place until after 5 days of wanting to open the windows have gone by.  Five days feels long to long for fresh air. But, she has a point. We'll see how this week plays out, weather wise. 

The coffee experiment is going well. The household is now out of coffee. Having a cup at home means going out, which I am not apt to do. As far as coffee on the way to work, or at work, I feel the handle on that is fully and firmly grasped, given I've already gone two weeks without succumbing to either of those options. . 

And as for how I feel . . . given-the-givens, pretty good.

#MicroBlogMonday   

Same Ole Love

Album: Rapture: Release Date: March 20, 1986 

From beginning to end, 365 days a year . . .  

Despite the fact that I'd given birth to my second child only a few months before, I was far from a "happy in love" station (in the romantic sense). Life was, in a word, turbulent. It became less so over the years but right when this song / album came out I was dreaming of a past that never really was and for a future I hoped to secure. Same ole . . but, new.  

Anita Baker roller skating. Swoon. 

Cool Poultry

Buttah Explored*

Last week I participated in an experiment of my own design. For the five work days, I went without coffee.
It was a trial. Even though I do like teas and drink them fairly often, tea is not my go-to hot beverage. It is certainly not my, "getting up in the morning, on the go" beverage. Or, it wasn't until last week.

It was Thursday before I wasn't actively craving coffee and considering abandoning the experiment. Still, on Saturday morning upon reporting to a rare Saturday shift, the coffee had brewed and it called me, loudly.

The first taste was gulped hungrily. I soon settled into a more respectable sipping and savored with glee. I had coffee again at home on Sunday and it was swell. Quite.

This Monday morning the day begins with Green Tea with Honey and Ginseng to have alongside some cottage cheese, sliced strawberries and peaches, saving coffee for a weekend pleasure.

Maybe.

The experiment shall continue for the next few weeks, or for as long as I can stand. Unless, it is proven that there is (or is not) a direct correlation to the hot beverage of choice and overall eating habits. (I believe I eat poorly and / or make poor choices when I drink coffee and not so much when I have tea. I also tend to drink more coffee and less of other beverages (like water).
The theory may be all wet, but there it is.

It may simply be mind over matter.

Whatever the case, appreciable and measurable changes must be made and maintained--forevermore.

This is a new start.

#MicroBlog Monday *
*Happy Anniversary Twitter*

Welcome to Friday

"We have to live together."

Second Monday in March

A co-worker asked what I was doing for St. Patrick's Day. I replied, it is Thursday. I'll be doing what I do most every Thursday. No big whoop. I just hope the weather stays more like spring rather than deciding to deliver a winter blast.

Bigger than St. Patrick's Day (in my opinion) for the up-coming week, is our state's primary.  Election day is Tuesday and if last Friday is any indication, it shall be a bumpy ride. The weather may keep most folks off the street. Hopefully, most folks voted early.

The best aspect of this week (and the advent of Daylight Saving Time) is that Spring is officially around the corner; sunshine, blue skies, fields of blooms. May the Sun shine warm upon all our faces.

#MicroBlogMonday
click the link for more Monday Musings 

O Say, What'd He Sing?

This song has been blowing through my mind for the last several weeks. Why? I don't know. I mean, yes, I used to love it but hadn't thought about it for years. Like most of Smokey's song catalog it is about love, falling in love, being in love, loving - - - L O V E. And that is not where I am or have been. Well, except with . . well, that's another post.

Anyways . . . I always thought I knew this song like the back of my hand. For while I hadn't thought about it for years and years until a few weeks ago, I used to listen to it often.  Blow, baby.  And so, as I couldn't get the song off my mind, I decided to build a post around it. And even thoughI felt I knew the song backward and forward, I checked lyric sites none-the-less.

And now, I'm thrown.

The first stanza after the chorus: When you sigh, weak am I, A butterfly caught up 
in a hurricane, hurricane. Lucky me, umbrella free. Suddenly I'm caught up in your summer rain

Those lyrics are in my bones. I've listened to the song again and again and again in the past several weeks and that is what I hear.

Or is it that I have always believed those lyrics to be true and refuse to hear it any other way?

Most of the lyric sites have the lyrics to that stanza as follows:

Windy sigh, weaken my Butterfly caught up in a hurricane, hurricane
Lucky me, I'm better free, Suddenly I'm caught up in your somber rain

I mean, I listen to the song and try to hear those lyrics....but, I can't. In my mind it is fairly obvious what he's singing and it anything about being better free (WTF?) or somber rains.. idiotic. Really.

So, I don't trust the site. I trust what I hear/d.   It is in my bones.


PS. Good golly I miss albums and liner notes with song lyrics.



  

On Repeat

I got Aretha in the morning
High on my headphones and walking to school
I got the blues in springtime 'cause I know that I'll never have the right shoes

Momma she'd notice but she's always crying
I got no one to confide in, Aretha nobody but you
Momma she'd notice but she's always fighting
Something in her mind and it sounds like breaking glass

This song / recording is old however new it may be to me. I heard it for the first time a couple of weeks ago while listening to one of those DIY streaming music sites. It was suggested because I played (or searched) for something else. I don't even know what the something else is now. I may have it written down somewhere but for the life of me, I can't bring IT to the surface now. If it is meant to come back to me, it will. But for now, I am all over Rumer (stage name) Sarah Joyce and her tale of a girl being lifted by the music of Aretha Franklin, trying to forget just how bleak life is for her and her mom. .  

PS:  Spring? Oh yeah, two words: wintry mix. 

Minding Your Words

Or even as thought balloons that lingered for quite some time after the words were spoken. . .

#MicroBlogMonday 

Tough Week

I'm trying, but it isn't working out so well this week. It is taking every single ounce of energy I have to get up, get to work, do my work (to the best of my ability) and make it home, where this week I've been crashing, asleep before eleven only to wake up at 2: 30 ish. Again at 3:30 ish and yet again, at 4:30 ish, only to have to be up by 5:30 and out the door by 7--to do it all over again.  I'm trying not to dwell, I'm trying not to wallow. But, I don't feel like doing anything but wallowing. But, she wouldn't like that so again, I rise.

May 26, 1940 - Feb. 18, 2013
Peace, be still. 

Too Sharp to B Flat

Photo by Amol Art 

My son ("The Actor") is, through a variety of means (youtube tutorials, books picked up in thrifts, and one-on-ones with working musicians) learning to play the blues harp as well as acoustic guitar.

He's played on the streets to the delight of passers-by, he's participated in open mic type jam sessions at one of the few spaces featuring live music, he has held guest appearances with some featured acts.

The actor has been having a grand time learning, jamming, building his repertoire. Though he isn't striving to become a working musician he does anticipate having music in the mix will further enhance his résumé.

Today is the anniversary of the actor's birth. He continues his slice through time with his usual grace and aplomb; staying in tune and razor sharp to the bone.

 Happy 34th birthday to Bluesman slash Actor.

#MicroBlogMonday Check out Mel and others!

Super Bowled Over

I don't know how much a Super Bowl ad spot is going for these days. I do know, that the ads ARE the thing. And of the few that have I've seen so far, this hit me. Full disclosure, I am not a huge fan of ketchup and as a "Chicago Hot Dog" person (when I eat hot dogs) NEVER on a hot dog. Still, I like this ad. It's fun.

I'll tune in to see what folks who paid trillion bucks (or whatever it is) for air time bring to the party.

Oh, and somewhere in there, a football game will be happening. Cheers and pass the chips!

 

Be Still My Heart

Aretha Franklin has been as much a part of my growing up as collard greens and cornbread. Carol King's Tapestry was one of the first albums I bought with my own money. This moment was one of the greatest TV moments in my recent memory and I shall cherish it for years to come. 

Natural. Women. Swoon. 

#MicroBlogMonday   

No Offense Taken

A "senior" coffee is fifty-five cents at the local quick service spot near work. I only know that
because this morning, the clerk who took my order charged me for a  "senior" coffee.  Which sent me on an
all day bender trying to figure out what it was about me
that had her take me for a "senior" whatever that is
in their establishment.

My head was covered (winter, dontchaknow) but even if it wasn't my hair is still more pepper
than salt. It is possible she just gave me the once-over and decided by coat (and / or
over-all manner of dress) was just not trendy enough to be anything less than, "senior" Again,
whatever that is to her  (all of 20, if that) and/or the establishment.

I was feeling pretty spry after y long bus rides having worked out the kinks and plantar
fascitis type aches and pains, cause for the occasional limp--so I don't think it was my gait that read,
"senior."

All day I wondered.

 Until I decided that it wasn't my appearance
that drove the clerk to the "senior" key.
It was how I ordered or rather,
how she heard my order .

"May I have a 'small' coffee and 2 oatmeal cookies?"
became, "May I have a 'senior' . . .

That has to be it, she heard senior instead of small.. Yes,
that has to be . .
IT!

#MicroBlogMonday  

Soon-Ah, Very Soon

Simple things, some lovely simple things.

#SixWordSaturday

New Year, New Plan

Click image for more MBM! 

One of the brunch aunts gifted me with a blender. While we were chatting that Saturday,  I mentioned wanting / needing one and she had an extra (older model) and so, now I have a blender. I have spent the better part of last year collecting healthful alternatives and adding more fruit and vegetables to my total intake. 

This morning's smoothie: pineapple, yogurt, cranberries, and spinach. 
  
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Woke Up Weak

We (me and various members of my extended family--even those who have died) are gathered in what looked like a big treehouse. We are there for a nephew’s 6th birthday party. As folks are getting their party hats on, so to speak, the smell of frying fish and chicken wafts throughout.  

Someone yells that we needed ...something. I hop to volunteer to go get the something. Cinnamon and I get into an uncle’s Chevy Impala. There aren’t any parking spaces, so I double, jump out and ..   SHIT!  

Engine running, door locked, Cinnamon inside.  

Panic explodes on the inside of my head.

I try to figure out a way inside the car. Thankfully there was no traffic in fact, no one was on the street. At. All. Still, my head is spinning with what could happen. Running car. Dog inside. Folks at the party waiting for me (and whatever it is I went to get). All the doors are locked, Futility pushes me to try them anyway.

Sweet sassy molasses, the passenger side door isn’t locked. I swing it open, reach across the seats to turn off the car and grab the keys out of the ignition. As I stand, three women with beehive hairdos approach and proceed to enter the car. Appearing mildly miffed by the presence of the dog slows but doesn't stop them. They are chattering away. 

I am temporarily stunned into silence but do find voice enough to ask what

they are doing. Again, miffed that I seem so dense; as it was clear to them I was the ride arranged by the planners of whatever event they were attending. I stumbled out an explanation that I was not, in fact, their ride and they had to get out of the car. I was still frantic to get back to pick up . . . whatever it was I went to pick up for the party and get back before too much longer.

The ladies with the air in their hair start to argue or negotiate when 

Cinnamon BARKS and I wake up.  

With a headache.

First dream of 2016.

#MicroBlogMonday Go check out Mel's place for more MicroMonday entries.

So Far, So Okay

Happy New Year. So Much Ambition. 

#SixwordSaturday

Bringing in the New/s

This is the time of year when we (as a collective) tend to think about resolutions and the like, in one way or another. Some of for 'em and make them. Some are agin 'em and don't make them. Some are on the fence, don't feel strongly either way but will allow that breaking into a new year warrants . . something.

And some, don't. Anything.

Though I haven't used the word I have, at year's end (or the very beginning) over the past several, written of things that I wanted, hoped, resolved to accomplish or at the very least, try making some headway toward achievement. Some disciplines have been put in place, some headway has been achieved.

But, by-and-large, I am not where I resolved to be in most of  the areas.

It has been a challenging few years; both parents dying within months of one another, a lay-off after 30+ years of steady, gainful--solid middle class--employment, several months of unemployment, several months of unemployment masquerading as sales (100% commission) and several months (and counting) of working earning less than half of the pre-layoff salary.

Challenges. It has been difficult staying on task (any task). Grief takes a toll. Eagle-eyeing a budget, robbing Peter to pay Paul, takes a toll. Crossing all fingers and toes that not another thing breaks or otherwise needs replacing, takes a toll. Trying to keep up with preventative maintenance on such a slim margin, takes a toll. Lack of a particular brand of companionship, takes a toll. Being the leader, takes a toll.

Still, I managed to write a letter a month over this past year. I posted 30
31 more times in 2015 than 2014. I crafted 2 more holiday greetings this year over last. I filled 4 pages in a sketchbook. I practised Spanish. I studied and have earned a couple of certificates in the medical terminology and medical billing programs. I colored pages in my Celtic Mandala pattern book.
On the other hand, I am still a good 40 pounds from my goal weight, inconsistent with steps, lazy approach to food--which usually results to less than positive choices.  I have much more purging and organizing in both my physical and virtual worlds, to do. And then there are the home maintenance and improvement projects.

It isn't just the lack of funds, but that is factor. Challenges.

So, I will resolve to try. I will endeavor to maintain the disciplines established. I will work to improve the track record toward positive changes. I will try to remain on task toward finishing some things and thinking about how I may stay present in the day-to-day. I will try to not fret over results. I will try to focus on taking the steps, picking up the pen (or whatever tool) and just doing the thing--whatever the thing is in any given moment, on any given day. I will try to avoid becoming overwhelmed with the weight of it all.

Long story short, I will try to keep on keeping on, do whatever it is in my power to have more yay and fewer nay days.

May the force  . . yada x3.

#MicroBlogMonday   Click the link to read more MBM offerings.
 

Brunch with Aunts

These lovely ladies are two of my mom's four remaining sisters. Mom was the middle girl between them. Closest to us geographically throughout my growing up, mom spent a lot of time with them for they were closer to each other than with the other (many) siblings. Seeing them, speaking to them brings back so many fond (and some not so fond, but that's family) memories. 

The three had a tradition of gathering around Christmas, eating, drinking, laughing and just being sisters, friends.This year I was invited to share in an evening of talk, frivolity, food, and more. I was hesitant to accept the invite for I miss my mom more when I am in their company. But, I also miss my mom less when I am in their company. I suspect the same is true for them. That realization sealed the deal. 

It was so much fun.  

#MicroblogMonday. Go, read. Write. :-)  

One Hour and Thirty Minutes

Two Boys in A Box 

The one-way AM commute, using the best route takes one hour and thirty minutes, most days. And most days, the evening commute is a crap shoot but takes at least one hour and thirty minutes.

If  I go to the nearest laundry mat, early enough on a Sunday morning, don't have a wait for either a washer or dryer, I can complete a double load of laundry in one hour and thirty minutes--not counting putting away once home again.

Last Tuesday, one hour and thirty minutes was spent saying a final good-bye to a cousin, supporting a mother burying her only child, a son who was himself a father and grand-father. The hardest, second most emotional hour and thirty minutes of 2015.

I am finding a small measure of comfort in measuring the time it takes to do things. One hour and thirty minutes from lights out tonight, I hope to be asleep and to rest for longer than the one hour and thirty minute stretches of the last several days.

#MicroBlog Monday    Go. Read. Blog.

Occupations

My son, the actor, decided long ago that he wouldn't use the word actress to describe a female actor. He would simply use, actor. One arguement is that as the nature of the work doesn't change with the gender, changing the word just doesn't make sense.

Few are the occupations that change the word based on gender.

Even in the arts it is one of few (only?) occupation titles that gender sorts. Dancers, Vocalists, Musicians, Designers, Directors, Bassoonists, etc . . none of these and more identify the gender of the performer.

We (he and I) have spoken often of the ramifications of words, the import of terms and how they are wielded. My son, the actor, decided long ago to cease use of the word actress to describe a female actor.


Can you think of any profession in which the word for same is different depending on the gender of the performer?


#MicroBlogMonday

Canyon

Instinctively, her arms jut as she tumbled. Deliberately, I extended mine, not to catch her, but to join her in the tumble as we sought purchase in canyon of love.  


#MicroBlogMonday

Second Weekend in November

Sixty degree temps in the middle of November prompted a trip outdoors to get down to the yard work put off for too many weekends to count. The fallen, blown leaves ankle deep needed to be curbed, shrubbery grown out of control needed to be tamed, and trash by way of empty cups and assorted wrappers resting atop and buried within the ankle deep fallen leaves needed to be properly disposed.

And so, for several hours over the two weekend days I raked, pruned, and collected trash to be disposed. Work mostly done on auto-pilot usually means the mind (mine, anyway) wanders. My wandering mind settled on a list, which is not surprising, of rampant and recent annoyances, which is kind of surprising.

In no particular order:

Folks who won't use trash receptacles to properly dispose of their trash.

Neon signs that scream "open" when the establishment is in fact, closed.
And businesses without posted hours of operation. AND businesses that have posted hours
but do not adhere to them consistently.

Folks who use "actually" in a manner that is . . . superfluous, to say the least.

Bombs. I cannot imagine being in a space directly impacted by the act of bombing. But, even from afar, I am annoyed. Angry, even.

Just to name a few.

I am grateful for the sixty degree days and the opportunity to wrangle the yard into shape for I know the other side of the weather coin is but a pattern away. I am grateful too, for having a mind--even if it does wander--even if the wandering leads to less than pleasant thoughts. Those too, can be productive, in time.

But, that's a thought for another day.

#MicroBlog Monday.  

 

Welcome to November

$14.57 on hand with five days to go before the next payday, a mild panic rose in her chest. A quick check of her transit card balance and even quicker calculation toward determining how much of the $14.57 had to be committed to getting to work for the next four days, elevated the panic from mild to extreme.*


#MicroBlogMonday -- go see, read, play along. 

*fictionalized reality.

Fun Day

Pete may or may not have been having fun. Buttah, though seemed 

to be enjoying himself. 

Feeling more like Pete these days. 

#MicroblogMonday~ go check 'em out. 

Older. New Thing.

Yesterday was my daughter's thirtieth birthday.  The thirty days leading into her birth date has been a journey down memory lane, much of which was shared in this space and to my FB circle. From this day forward I am the parent of two "kids" in their thirties.

And so today, I had flour-less pancakes; banana and eggs. Hmmm...  I think tomorrow I shall try it with cinnamon.

#MicroBlog Monday 

Thirty Out Loud

Over the past thirty days I've shared "through the years images" of my daughter in pre-celebration of her thirtieth birthday, which is today. 

Over the past thirty years my daughter and I (and the rest of the family) have shared much, as you may imagine. She has been the source of some of my greatest joys and the opposite. 

Over the past thirty days I have come to recall some moments of the last thirty years, sparking wonder-filled conversations and laughter. 

Over the past thirty years I have helped my daughter navigate; learning as I taught.  

Over the past thirty days, as I've re-visited words and images I am reminded of the tenacity of her spirit, 

the expanse of her personality, the quality of her character. 

Over the past thirty years there have been ups and downs. We survived, I believe because we have been able to talk. And write what may have proven difficult to verbalize.  

Over the past thirty days I re-visited the large and small celebrations; remembering how we've cheered each other's  triumphs. Here's to the happiest of happy days today, tomorrow, and beyond. 

  

It is Monday, Again

Can you believe it, Monday September 21st?! And, in a couple of days, the first day of Fall. I am ready . . but not. I've been immersed in the medical billing training and creating cards; words and
images, and more;  memories for my daughter's 30th coming in a little over two weeks.

And through it all, my mother appears, voice ringing in my ears, her image popping in and out of my mind's eye. I've been reflecting on the wise words of Rose Kennedy: “It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

It is possible to get tired of pumpkin spice marketing. Give it a rest already. 

#Microblog Monday  click the link to check out other MicroBloggers

Round UP

While Sleeping 

1. With daughter's birthday (23 days) coming and this loosely planned series (posted to FB) of micro-celebrations I've been looking at a lot of photos, bringing up a lot of memories, a lot of "feels."  Thus staying on an even keel has been a bit of a challenge. 

2. And staying on an even keel is vital given the medical terminology, medical billing, and ICD-10 CM proficiency lessons and testing. Cleared the first hurdle as far as the proficiency testing. I felt pretty good when I saw my score. I felt like break dancing. I didn't, of course. 

3. School is back in session which means there are students on the buses during my commute. This is not a cheerful happenstance. Students (okay, not all but some) are obnoxious. And loud. (Not all, I said). 

4. Something happened with our daffodils this season. Not just in my yard, but the entire neighborhood, possibly the town. I haven seen many blooms but precious few daffodils. 

5. Pancakes are awesome. French toast even more so. Noting trumps an omelet (esp. Greek) though. 

My Second, My Last, My Everything

Brown Eyes

 

*Counting down to birthday number thirty! 

*micro celebrations over the next month.

#SixWordSaturday

 

September, So Long Summer

Pete's Box 

As we count down the last days of summer I realize that while I marked the calendar with a number of "check this out" events I look back and realize that I have not done any of those things. There were a number of reason over the previous 10 or so weeks but ultimately, I just didn't feel like being out in that way. 

It may be connected to my single status. It may be connected to my meager financial resources. It may be connected to my conscious effort to focus and stay on task. It may be connected to being bone tired by week's end and a little grocery shopping, laundry, and cleaning is about all I can muster. 

It may be all of that and then some. 

While I am not looking forward to what lies beyond the likely, all too brief Autumn I am not particularly all that sorry to see summer fade this year.

Welcome to September.      

#MicroblogMonday